Smoulder
by Neko-Youkai
Summary: Hans, the unlucky thirteenth son is different than all of the rest. Fire follows the youngest prince and burns in his veins. What happens though when he meets a queen with enough ice to cool him? Will he find solace for his loneliness, or will he turn everything to ashes. (Iceburns, Hans/Elsa AU)
1. Chapter 1

(**AN: Wow... so um hi! It's been a really long time since I've written any fanfiction. So please be gentle. The name is Panda and really, I just couldn't get this AU out of my head ever since I started to see a lot of the Hans/Elsa art and stories. This will be an AU, so the events of the movie haven't and probably won't happen here. Please review though and tell me what you think. If you like it, I will continue!) **

The first time anyone in the Southern Isles realized that there was something different with the thirteenth son of the Royal family, Hans was three. The little boy was constantly trying to follow his larger and older brothers wherever they went, but they had little desire to entertain the thumb sucking runt that their mother died giving birth to.

It was during one particularly cold winter afternoon that all the brothers were together within the King's study playing knights and dragons. Klause, the eldest, had split the brothers into two groups, ignoring the youngest since he didn't understand the game anyways. Calling out the charge. He led five brothers closest in age to him against the rest while his father looked on in amusement.

No one noticed Hans in the fray as he ran around the boys, giggling and trying to join in with their merriment. More than one brother simply shoved him out of their way, not caring if he fell to the ground. It was Auguste who pushed too hard to the side though. Nothing was there to stop the poor boy as he stumbled forward, unable to stop himself as he fell head first into the roaring fireplace.

A piercing scream of fear and pain froze all twelve boys and their father in place. At the sound of his youngest's cry, King Bathilius immediate shoved himself out of his chair and rushed past his other sons to see his youngest crying in the middle of a hot, burning fire, clutching his scraped arm as if that was the only thing that was wrong. The fire seemed to lick around him, burning at his clothes, but not once did it burn the boy's fair skin or auburn hair.

For a moment, the king was completely frozen, unable to do anything but stare at his son. Then the first feeling bloomed in him, fear for Hans... and fear of him. How could that even be possible? There was no time to think of that though. Who knew how long his boy would be safe within the crackling flames.

"Hans, son. Come here and let father help you." He called out to his youngest, trying to keep his voice from trembling. The now naked boy looked up to his father, bottom lip trembling, and immediately ran to his arms. Bathilius gathered Hans into his arms, ignoring just how hot he felt and hugged him close to him. "Shhhh... it's alright now Hans... it's alright now. Father has you and all will be well."

Wrapping his son up in his cloak, he carried the boy back to his room and immediately called for the healers. None could explain what had happened. Some called it a miracle, others called it a curse. Really, Bathilius wasn't sure what to call it. He hadn't gone mad, all of his sons reaffirmed the story. even Klause was sure of what had happened.

After that, Hans went from being the annoying baby brother, to the strange creature that no one was sure how to handle. While it had been one isolated incident, no one could tell the brothers just why it happened. Being children themselves, they reacted the only way they could think of. Any time Hans would go to his brothers to try to play with them, immediately each game would end, every story finished. Most of his brothers wouldn't even speak to him. Instead they would keep their head bowed low and rush out of the room as soon as he entered. Hans just couldn't understand it. What had he done to make them all mad at him. He was a good boy after all.

Hans worked hard to be as good as he could be. The maids would praise him for having such good manners at his age. Visiting nobles would say they wished they had such a well behaved child as the youngest of the princes. None of them ever knew of that first incident, or any of the many that started to occur the older Hans got.

Rooms would get warmer whenever Hans walked in. The flames from torches, candles, and fireplaces would flare wildly whenever he became upset. All of it was easy to ignore though. The king could pretend that they were simply incidents of chance whenever they happened. Bathilius tried his hardest to pretend his son was just like the rest. He could handle the boy if that were true.

The incident that really changed everything though happened when Hans was seven. He was finally at the age to really understand that his older brothers were ignoring him on purpose. And like any child, he wanted them to play with him, to even talk to them. He saw his eldest two brothers sitting together, working on their lessons when he walked up. Both boys tried to ignore their youngest brother in hopes that he would quickly leave. For once, Hans would not. Climbing up onto the couch that they were sitting, Han's leaned close to Klause.

"What are you doing?" He asked, trying to tug at the book in his brother's hand. Klause kept a tight grip on his lessons book and refused to even look at the younger boy.

"Klause! Hey Klause! Lemme see what you're doing." Hans tried to yell a little louder. Once more, his brother refused to look at him. Hans could feel his anger rising. Why did they always have to do this? Why couldn't Klause at least talk to him?

"Lemme see what you're reading?" He tried to tug at the book again, but Klause kept a tight hold.

"Go away." Was all that Klause offered. When Hans didn't listen though, the boy pushed him off of the couch, forcing him to fall flat onto his rear. Glaring, Hans stood up, little fists clenched tightly. He was flush with anger. Not even realizing it, flames started to lick his hands, singing the edges of the shirt he was wearing.

"Pay attention to me!" Hans screamed at his brothers. The shout did draw their eyes, but the fire was what really got their attentions. Both boys scrambled back on the couch and away from the flaming child.

Klause watched on in horror as his baby brother seemed to emit fire, like some sort of... "Monster..." Klause heard his other borther scream as loud as possible, drawing their tutor, several maids, and even their father in the room.

"What in the world is going on here!" Bathilius called out. As soon as the words left his lips, he noticed what was happening. "Hans... what, what are you doing?" His youngest son jumped when his name was called and immediately, Hans turned to his father. The fire extinguished when the child's anger did.

"He threatened us father." Klause spoke as soon as he was able to regain his voice. "He came in here while Michael and I were at our lessons and he tried to attack us!" His voice grew bolder as his youngest brother seemed to shrink at the accusations.

"What do you mean? Hans, what did you do?" Bathilius asked/ His voice was calm but demanded answers.

"I... I just wanted to play and they wouldn't let me... I don't know what happened after that." He looked down at his own hands, curious and worried about the fire that had sprouted from them.

"Did you mean to... do what you did?" He asked, not even sure it was possible to summon fire like that on purpose, but his son had and had endangered both of his other children.

"No... father, I don't know what I did. I just wanted to play."

"He wanted to torture us father. Hans is dangerous... Michael and I both agree. Even if he does not know what he is doing, what if he had touched one of us, burned us?" Bathilius's eldest had a point. While the teenager was seeming to overreact a bit, this was something that could be quite dangerous to all of his family.

The question was what could he do?


	2. Chapter 2

(AN: Well it seems that some of you do like it! I'm happy, though remember, reviews and the like will get me writing longer and faster! ^^; I'm still not so sure about my own abilities sometimes)

There were times that Barthilius could remember laying beside his wife at night, dreaming of what their youngest would look like. "He'll have hair like your's." She would say, tugging at his auburn locks."But he'll have that fiery spirit my family is known for." He could remember chuckling softly and giving her an indulgent smile. Those were some of his favorite memories and often he would look back on them and try to think of what she would do when something happened with one of their sons. Even he wasn't sure what his wife would have done in such a situation.

No one had an answer for the worried king. He had called healers, priests, even druids and worshipers of the old ways to check on his son. The healers could only say that the fire did nothing to him. It was as if it was part of himself. It would burn the boy's clothing off of him within moments though.

The priests weren't much better. They prayed over the confused and scared boy for hours. More than one declared that he was possessed, or worse than that. Barthilius refused to listen that his youngest was some sort of demon spawn though. The boy was gentle usually and always eager for someone to smile at him or give him some sort of attention. He highly doubted that made him dark in any way.

That left the druids and worshipers of the old ways. Some had crazy ideas or how to cure him. Things like bathing in sow's blood, or wearing the wool of a ram for a week. None of the cures worked, instead the boy seemed to be lighting himself aflame more and more often. Worried for the welfare of the rest of his sons, Barthilius separated young Hans and moved him to the Eastern wing of the castle. It had been years since it'd been used, but with a good clean and some new items, it was ready for the boy to be housed immediately without worry.

"Father, why can't I go play with everyone else?" Hans would ask when his father came to visit him, trying to offer some time to the boy in exchange for keeping him here. The king knew it was hard for the boy to be alone with only servants so often, but hopefully it would only be a temporary thing. King Barthilius refused to have any thought to the contrary.

"We need to find out what is making you so strange, my boy. When it is safe, I am sure that your brothers will welcome you to join their games with open arms.' he ruffled the boy's hair and motioned for him to sit as he handed him a ornately carved wooden box. "I brought you a gift, Hans. You might a bit young for this, but it'll help you learn tactics."

Eagerly, Han's took the gift and opened it. It was a chess set, ornately carved and painted to resemble the various things from their kingdom. "Wow!" The happy shout forced the fireplace to flare to life. Barthilius froze in his chair at it, but tried to calm down after it seemed that was the only thing that would happen. Instead of worrying about it though, the king helped his young son place each of the pieces in their proper place, explaining what each of them did at the time. Han's eyes were as wide as saucers as he listened, and tried to put it to memory. His father was right, and he probably was too young to be learning the game, but that wouldn't stop him from trying, hoping to impress his father. He wasn't as skillful as Klause was at his age or his sixth elder brother Randoulf, but he was Barthilius was pleased to see that he was a fast learner.

"Do not worry my young Hans, soon enough you will be impressing your brothers with your skills. Now, want to play again?"

"So, what you're telling me is that those little chicken bones that someone carved something into are going to tell you my son's fate." King Barthilius frowned at the latest wise woman that his advisor had brought. The old bat looked older than time itself and mostly blind. The pale color of her eyes sent shivers down young Han's back. He couldn't help but shift closer to his father, even if he was trying to be a brave boy.

"These rune stones will tell us the nature of the boy. That is what you wished to know, is it not? How to help your son, your highness?"

With a stern nod, Barthilius placed a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. Hans fought the urge to tremble, especially when the old woman reached out her gnarled, pale hand for him to take. It reminded him of the witches from the stories the maids would tell him at bed.

"Go ahead Hans... all will be well." Hans glanced back at his father before swallowing the lump of fear that was forming in his throat. Hesitantly, he reached his little hand and the woman grabbed it immediately, pulling him close to her and to the fireplace. Her sharp nails drew small dots of crimson blood as she kept a strong grip on him, despite his hand getting warmer and warmer.

"Boy, calm yourself. Set me on fire, and you will regret it." She said as she wiped the drops off of his hand and shook them on the bleached white bones that she had laid out over a black cloth. Hans watched them stained with the liquid with a sudden macabre fascination. He watched as the hag gathered them into her hands as she chanted words in a language long forgotten, older than the very castle that they were in.

His eyes were locked on them as she let them free, each piece rattling to the ground, reflecting the oranges and reds of the firelight. Hans felt the heat flow through him, thrumming to some ancient magic that called to it.

"This is no monster nor demon curse." The woman's voice was hushed as she spoke, her eyes seeing, but not seeing what laid before her. "Born and blessed with fire;s gift. The unlucky prince's spirit roars with ancient magic, a gift from a mother's line long thought lost with time." Her face turned to the boy as she blindly reached out towards him. "Blessing or burden will lay within yourself child. Fire can cause great destruction, or can bring warmth and light. You have the great ability for both within you. "

Barthilius listened to each word and felt the ring of truth behind them. He never used to believe in such things as magic, but watching his son's powers had caused him to question his views many a night. So it was something he was born with, something permanent. He wondered vaguely if his wife would have known about this. He would never find out. The dead guard their secrets fiercely.

"What can I do for him?" He finally spoke, drawing the old woman's sight back into focus and onto her king's face. "Help him learn... and invest in some very thick leather gloves." She said as she looked down at the child before him. "He will need your love to temper the fire."

With a nod, the king took a pouch from his lip and tossed it at the woman's feet. "For your services and your silence. Speak not a word of this to another living being or forfeit your life."

The old hag took the pouch and bowed low before gathering the tools of her trade back up. "As you wish, my king." Glancing down at the small boy who continued to watch her, not truly understanding the words she had said. "Be good blessedly cursed prince. Thirteenth child, you have quite the fate before you. Learn to love the snow. It may just ease the fire that will rage."

With those last cryptic words and a rough pat to Han's head, she was gone. The boy immediately ran back to his father's side, seeing answers for all that he didn't understand. If only Barthilius had them to give to his youngest son. Instead, he gently ruffled his hair and promised to speak with him about it in the morning. For now, he wanted to ease his child's mind before going to wish his elder sons a good rest.

(A/N: Welp, I didn't mean to have this done so fast, and I know it's another shortish chapter, but it seemed like the best place to end it. Once again, reviews are loved. The more reviews, the faster... and longer I write :D )


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: I am so sorry for the delay everyone! Things in my live have been rather hectic! I've been pretty sick since christmas and I've been going from doctor to doctor trying to figure out what's wrong. Hopefully things will get answered with these last set of tests that I've been going through. I want to thank everyone who's still reading, and everyone who's just starting! I hope you enjoy this chapter. If so, please review. Nothing makes me feel better than reading that people like this story!)

"Now young prince, you must wear these gloves. They'll do well to help you control. The thick leather will not burn so easily and you will be able to smell it long before anyone will be able to take notice of your... little problem."

Hans sighed as he took the gloves from the old advisor wrinkled hands, trying to keep himself calm. But his irritation and frustration was forefront in the young boy's mind, causing heat to radiate from his hands, forcing the older man to draw back, for fear of being burned. He knew the young prince wasn't doing it on purpose, but that was even worse. The obvious lack of control was far more dangerous than any form of malice.

Drake had been assigned to assist the young prince in trying to figure out how best to hide and handle his fire since it was learned that there was no way of getting rid of the curse. Drake's family had served the royal family of the Southern Isles for three generations now and held his loyalty to the king since they were both young boys themselves.

He was a serious man by nature, with a long, gaunt face that was framed with long salt and pepper hair that was pulled back into a severe ponytail. Hans always thought he looked a bit like a crow with the way his nose hooked downward, but he knew better than to say it outloud to the man. He held the most power out of all the servants and had been given permission from the king himself to punish any of the princes if ever he felt they deserved it. More than once, he'd received a stern lecture or a slap on the top of his hands when he used to try to sneak treats from the maids.

"Do I have to? My hands'll get all sweaty and hot." Hans whined softly as he touched the thick and heavy black fabric. He liked it better when he could feel the cool air against his always heated flesh. It gave him a feeling that he simply wasn't burning away from the inside.

"Princes do not whine, young Hans." Drake offered when he looked over the young boy. He was so small, even for his age. The maids still called him the runt of the royal family, and many thought he was sickly and that was why they had hidden him away from the rest of the boys and the castle If only they knew just how powerful, and dangerous the boy could be without even trying.

"There is nothing wrong with wearing gloves, young Hans. Your father wears white ones daily, as do I. When you are older, you would have to wear gloves anyways when you are dressed formally. Just think of this as being more mature than some of your older brothers that you have them now rather than later." While the seven year old wasn't exactly sure what being mature meant, the idea of doing something better of before her brothers had him immediately grabbing at the gloves once more.

Shoving his chubby hands into the thick leather, Hans tried to wiggle his fingers. The black leather was stiff for now, barely letting him flex his hands properly. He would get used to them though if they helped him learn to stop the fire and make father proud.

"Now young prince. We are going to work on controlling yourself and hiding your powers. If you can go a week without incident, your father and I have I agreed that you can go play with your brothers for a time." Drake offered, knowing that rewards were the way to go with the young prince. Hans was more likely to work hard if it meant getting something he wanted in return, and there was nothing more that the boy wanted than to be around his brothers and be a part of their games. At the promise, Han's eyes lit up and he eagerly nodded and moved to sit at the table where they usually had his lessons.

The prospect of playing with any of them, even Klause, was enough to spur him on to try as hard as possible to do whatever was asked of him. While Hans enjoyed the special attention his father would give him at night, he missed his brothers and the games they would play, even when they ignored him sometimes. They were not only his brothers, but his friends. He missed them since he'd been placed alone in the western wing.

"Let us start with Economics, young prince. Please, recite the current trade partners of the Southern Isles?"

"That would be Weasleton, Spain, Corona, Arendelle..."

It had taken two months and sixteen pairs of gloves for Hans to be able to learn just how to control his fire enough to stop it before it started to burn through the thick leather. At least once a day, the boy would get frustrated enough that he could smell the smoky scent of the burning leather. It had taken a little over a week for him to realize just what the scent meant and even longer for him to understand that it was connected to his frustration and irritation. It took Drake sitting down and trying to explain it to the child what was causing his fire for Hans to truly get it.

That was the problem though, Drake realized. Little boys were supposed to find themselves frustrated, angry, or ashamed . Failing was simply a part of growing up and with failure came those feelings. How could he tell the boy not to feel, to hide those thoughts away? No, it had taken several nights in the library, trying to search for an answer.

Before her had a chance to really find something out, Hans had started coming to his own conclusions on what to do. The smell of the gloves forced all thoughts of whatever had caused the fire in him to burn brighter. Instead he thought of his father and brothers. He wanted to go out with them once more, trying to use that to calm himself down once more.

It took practice though. The first time he tried to do that, the gloves only burned faster, bursting into bright blue flame before cooling to a deep amber red. It seemed it wasn't only thoughts that were negative that made the fire burn. Yearning and love could make the fire burn hotter, and that was bad.

"Love is not a bad thing Hans." King Barthilius told his son one night over chess. "It can never be a bad thing. "

"But why do my gloves burn faster then?" He asked, fear and frustration obvious in his voice as the tell tale scent of burning leather assaulted the king's nose. Placing his game piece down, he reached over and laid his hand gently on his youngest's shoulder. "Because your fire is simply an outward representation of what everyone feels inside them." At the obviously bewildered look on his son's face, Barthilius chuckled softly. "Someday you will understand me better my son. For now though, know that everyone has a fire that burns inside of them. He moved his hand to Han's chest, over his heart. "In here. It is what makes us human, love, passion, desire, joy, and despair. There are times that those fires can build up and consume us."

Thinking back to the love for his own wife and the despair he'd felt at her death, he gave a small sad smile at the boy who looked so much more like her than any other of their sons. "Your gift simply gives an outward power behind that inner fire. "

"But... but if everyone has it father, does that mean I'll never be able to stop it, control it?" He looked down at the gloves that covered his hands. Already the tips of the fingers were looking black and cracked from the heat of his fear and despair.

"None of us can completely control our emotions, not even I." Barthilius said softly as he sighed. "But we can reign them in. With determination, confidence, and self discipline, we can use that inner fire for great things. I believe that you will learn to harness this power inside and bring about greeat, great things my son. You are a prince of the Southern Isles, greatness is in your blood." He said the last part with a smile.

While Hans didn't quite understand all that his father said to him in that moment, he'd never forget those words. "I hope I can be that good father."

"You already are. No need to try." He smiled and reached for the chess piece once more and toppled over Han's king. "Though you will need to work on your tactics my son." He chuckled. Hans just stared shocked at the chessboard before immediately reaching to place the pieces back in their proper spaces. "Again?"

"One more time Hans, but then bed. I still have to wish your brothers a good rest and you have lessons to be up and awake for early tomorrow morning. Do you not?"

The small boy gave a small pout, but nodded in agreement.

After two months of trying to keep himself calm and controlling the fire within, Hans had managed to keep his gloves whole and complete for the entire day. It was something to be proud of. Soon one day turned to two, and two to four. Before long, he'd managed to go the required week in order to see his brothers.

Drake was still a little worried to put him with the other boys, but Han's was so excited and he'd been working so hard. How much could one day hurt? "Now remember young prince, be polite, kind, and most of all control your fire."

Hans nodded as he finished dressing and pulled his gloves on without thinking. Already they were a natural part of each day, a protect against his fire growing out of control. "I will Drake, don't worry. I'm just going to play with my brothers." He said happily. "Think they'll be happy to see me? I bet Bram has all sorts of things to talk about.' He said, thinking about the brother closest in age to him. Only two years apart. Bram was his closest playmate before his powers awoke.

"Yes, well I will be standing close Hans. If things become out of control, we will return to the west wing. Understood?" He said softly, but the tone of his voice left for no disagreements.

"I promise Drake, now can we go, please? It's breakfast and I want to eat with father and everyone!" He was reaching for the old man's hand and nearly dragging him to the door and out towards the main part of the castle. Already, he could imagine the excitement of his brothers as he came in. They'd all want to know exactly what he'd been up to and in return tell him everything that he'd missed around the castle

The boy paused only a moment before the dining hall door to try to straighten out his clothes and straighten his back like his father had always taught him to do. Putting on his best smile, he opened the door and saw them all sitting there, eating and talking. For a moment, none of them noticed the youngest standing at the door, waiting to be acknowledged. Glancing to the head of the table, Hans took note that his father was absent, probably in a meeting or doing some form of work for the kingdom. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence. . He was surprised that no one had looked over to him yet. Unsure what to do, he glanced up at Drake for some sort of guidance.

The old man offered a supportive smile before clearing his throat loud enough to be heard. At once, the boisterous conversations came to a stop and the twelve brothers turned to face the thirteenth. The reaction from each varied. For Bram, it was an excited smile. From middle brothers such as Garrett and Randoulf, there was a hesitant greeting as they seemed unsure how to act around the powered prince. From Klause though, there was a thinly veiled look of disgust and disdain for the youngest son.

After a moment, the eldest prince seemed to regain his composure enough to motion for both brother and servant to take a seat at the end of the table. "Welcome Hans, I didn't realize that we would be expecting you this day. Does father know you've left the west wing?"

Not quite mature enough to understand his brother's forced polite tone for anything more than surprise, Hans smiled and nodded. "He told me yesterday that'd been doing so well with my lessions that he thought I should come and eat with everyone again."

"I...see." Klause said as the boy moved to sit beside Bram. "Well welcome back Hans, I do hope you enjoy breakfast." He said as he moved to stand. "I find myself suddenly finished with mine." Not wanting to be there, the eldest son left, followed shortly by three of their other brothers who were close in age to him.

Trying not to feel the hurt of them leaving, Hans gave a small smile and nodded. "I'll see you later then." The youngest prince called after before looking around at the nine brothers that were left. Beside him Bram at least seemed excited to see Hans as he began to speak, telling of everything going on in the castle.

"It's been so boring without you here! They make me study alone and do all sorts of stuff I don't want to do!" The second youngest whined loudly and reached for an apple. "Plus Klause keeps trying to get me to follow him around and learn everything he does, like it really matters."

Hans listened happily as Bram complained and spoke about the usual goings on as if nothing had changed between the two of them. For the first time in forever he finally felt... normal.

(A/N: This looks like a good enough place to end it for now. I have a decent idea of where I want to go with this story, but getting there has always been a bit of a problem with me. So please be patient for now and I hope you all enjoy my story so far! Please review! Thanks :D


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